


till your body gets weak

by Anonymous



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Background Relationships, F/M, Fade to Black, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 03:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19287499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: His six siblings hit the dance floor, and Five goes to the bar. He agreed to support Vanya’s endeavor to discover dancing, not to look like a fool himself.





	till your body gets weak

**Author's Note:**

> title from pretty ricky's grind on me, which was the random grinding song in the other fic lol  
> set in the same verse as the [diego/ben/klaus/vanya](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19272589), but works independently imo

Five had been tempted to not join the outing, but Ben pointed out Vanya would be less likely to go if he didn’t and the whole adventure was for her. Sometimes he wishes he had different favorite siblings. (Not truly.) 

Allison rumors them entry and a plateful of shots. The club is packed with writhing bodies to repetitive pop music. It boggles his mind how easily Allison settles sometimes- she could have everyone in this place worshiping at her alter. They could be playing her favorite songs, though with Allison’s taste perhaps they are. 

His six siblings hit the dance floor, and Five goes to the bar. He agreed to support Vanya’s endeavor to discover dancing, not to look like a fool himself. He takes the bar stool on the corner, keeping his siblings in sight. While the rumor will keep the bartender from kicking him off the bar, he isn’t about to test its durability by ordering anything. 

“Well hello there.” 

Five looks over, a stunning woman in a scarlet red dress sitting perpendicular to him. Her nails match the dress and lipstick perfectly, a hint of purple eyeshadow, and she looks entirely too good to be here. The dress is edged with black, drags your eyes down the low cut triangle and- 

“Hi,” his voice cracks. Fuck. He swallows, and with the absolute worst timing, his mind goes completely blank. He can’t even remember the last time he spoke with a civilian that he didn’t rescue or a service worker. 

She gestures for the bartender, “What are you drinking?” 

His training comes back, and he pulls on a winsome smile. “I couldn’t impose, though I’d be happy to share whatever you’re drinking.”

Five expects her to laugh at the audacity, to call him a child and be on her merry way. Maybe even a huff if she’s the type.

Instead her lips twitch up, her eyes not leaving his as she gives the bartender the order. “Frozen strawberry margarita, sugar rim, two straws.”

He raises an eyebrow, it must be a comment on his age, but she doesn’t take the bait. 

“I will need a name,” she says, eyelashes heavy with mascara fluttering. “Or I’ll have to make something up.” 

“Five.” 

She smirks, “A number hmm? Well you can call me a letter, H.” 

She’s too young to be a Holly, too unique to be a Heather or a Hannah. Hope would be ironic almost, too old to be a Haley. Far too pretty to be a Hillary or a Harriet or a Helga. Helen might suit her, but it doesn’t feel right. 

The bartender places the pink drink between them, mentions leaving her tab open, and that’s that. 

“Pleasure to meet you H.”

Red lips close around a straw, as she sips, and _fuck_. Five likes to pretend he isn’t a hormone stuck idiot like his siblings, is failing miserably. 

She sits up, tongue darting out to lick her lips, “Oh no, I assure you the pleasure is mine.” 

“You don’t belong here,” he says, cursing his mind for messing up the words. It’s too accusatory, too familiar. 

Her smile doesn’t fade though, “Neither do you Five.” 

His name rolls off her tongue easy, unnaturally so. Five sips the drink, it’s syrupy sweet, the barest hint of alcohol and a full blast of sugar. He looks up at her as he swallows, a volley back in her direction, but her face is etched with bare hunger. 

It’s unnerving. 

He should leave, he should- 

“We’re going to need another.” 

H smiles at his words, waves the bartender over. The next one is blue raspberry, doesn’t taint her lipstick but turns her tongue blue. 

Five’s decided Reginald is to blame- and doesn’t it always come back to daddy issues- that it’s dear old Reggie’s fault he hasn’t left. It was his training that taught him to chase down the odd and the dangerous. That with his powers he’d always be the first choice for scouting. Could teleport away if anything went awry. 

He doesn’t know which category H falls into, but he will by the end of the night. His eyes are drawn back to her cleavage, and fuck he hopes it’s odd. 

“See something you like?” 

He blinks, the wrongness hitting him again. He’s missing a variable. Her responses don’t follow properly, and he’s always prided himself on his equations. 

“Yes.” 

She sucks in a breath, a hint of a blush in her cheeks. Without his permission, his hand tests out a theory, landing on her knee. 

H doesn’t say anything, sips more of the drink. His hand slides up, up, up, under her dress, and her thigh tightens under his fingers. It’s a heady knowledge that she’s allowing this, that she’d probably allow him to do more, to even fuck her right here in front of everyone-

“You’re like me.” 

The entire club freezes, the sudden silence jarring. 

She smiles at him, pulls out a cigarette, “Not quite.” 

He pulls back his hand as if burned, and her smile is smug as she crosses her legs. 

“You’re one of the 43.” 

H exhales slowly, smoke playing about her mouth. “I am.” 

“You know me when I’m older.” It’s a half-baked theory, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. 

“Gold star,” she teases. 

He nods, finishing off the drink. “So. Am I dead or are we enemies?” 

“Whatever do you mean Five?” 

His finger traces the outline of her knee, “Why else would you allow this version of me to touch you? So which is it?” 

H laughs, “You caught me. You left work for another time, and I’ve been missing a you without all the stress.” The backs of her fingers brush against his face, “Won’t you indulge an old lover?” 

She’s lying. Not that they’ve fucked, he believes that familiarity. But the idea that they’re on good terms in the future and she chose to return to this night? It’s bullshit, and he definitely isn’t dead wherever she came from. 

“If you’re this honest with him, I can see why it didn’t work out.” 

She laughs loudly, sound echoing in the emptiness. “Oh Five, what are we but two immortals forever twining about one another? Time is meaningless for us.”

A stone drops in his belly, and he hates that he believes her. 

“You knew I’d be here.” 

Her teeth glint in a smile, “You once told me a story about a stunning blonde in a cherry red dress that took your virginity.” 

“…I see.” 

“I’m glad one of us does,” she says, putting out her cigarette. “You’re not one for unnecessary sentiment.” 

But Five’s mind is whirring down another line of thought. At thirteen he decided he wouldn’t have sex until he could go back in time. It had been tempting, so fucking tempting, to jump forwards to prove Reginald wrong. But Vanya had chased after him, asked how he would return- and he didn’t have an answer. 

It was supposed to be a small bit of silly incentive to keep working at it- as if he’d ever value sexual gratification so highly. He has a hand, the rest is immaterial. (Or it felt a lot more immaterial before this stunning woman placed herself in his path.)

The world starts moving again, he winces as the sounds blare in his ears. 

“I seem to have made a miscalculation, I’ll see you around Five.” 

It isn’t right- he needs to restart. He can do this, he can- his hands glow blue and he pushes through the air itself as though doing a spacial jump. 

“-dance our asses off.” 

“You good Five?” Ben asks, and Five blinks rapidly. 

The empty tray of shots is taken away, and Allison squeals that this is her song, dragging Luther onto the dance floor. 

“Yeah, I’m-” he catches H out of the corner of his eye, walking in the club. “I’m good. You guys have fun.” 

Diego says something he doesn’t catch, and he heads to the bar. Energy is vibrating under his skin, aching to get out. He needs to expel it before he runs to the future, and H is sitting beside him, breasts pushed up an ungodly amount. Five wonders idly what she would do if he just grabbed her, his fingers itch with possibilities. (He could live in this moment forever, play it infinitely differently, keep hitting the replay button.)

“Well hello there.” 

“Hi,” he says, and his voice doesn’t crack. 

Her tongue caresses his name, like she’s spoken it countless times in every mood. It’s almost more effective than the whole get up. But, well, he is still a hormonal teenager. 

This time when she sucks down the margarita, he allows his eyes to go hooded, to focus on her lips and decolletage. He imagines her getting ready for this little trip to the past- clearly she picked out a dress she knew he’d appreciate, make up to match, probably lingerie too and _fuck_. She really is wrapped up as pretty as a present, only missing a bow on top. 

His eyes catch on the lipstick again, imagines the vivid red wrapped around his cock. Arousal hits him harder, and he’s definitely been staring for too long. 

“Pleasure to meet you H.” 

“Oh no, I assure you the pleasure is mine.” 

She signals for another drink, blue raspberry again, and Five places a hand on her knee. It’s warm under his palm, still, and his fingers ache to turn his grip harsh. 

“Rather greedy of you. Wouldn’t you rather share it?” 

Her eyes go wide for a blink, before her coy mask settles once more. “And what would you suggest?”

His hand slides up her thigh, feels her shiver as his fingers pass over the stockings and hit skin. “Something… mutually beneficial.” 

The world freezes, and Five isn’t sure she did it on purpose this time. He looks around, the curiosity true on his face. Most things are the same, only Allison and Luther are up against a wall and Vanya’s sandwiched between Ben and Klaus, their hands in places that raises questions he thought were reserved for numbers one and three. Diego takes a minute to spot, almost hidden in the shadows, eyes on the dancing trio. 

“You’re one of us. Of the 43,” Five finally says, dragging his gaze back to her. 

H smiles, “I am.” 

“And you’re from the future.” 

Her lips quirk, “Are you calling me old?” 

He pinches her thigh, suddenly glad he didn’t move his hand. “You know me there.” 

“Intimately.” 

“So this,” Five pauses, sliding his hand ever higher, “isn’t new for you.” 

“You’re not usually so forward,” she grants, but he can see how her pupils have dilated. 

He grins, “Teenager.” 

Her cheeks flush in a new way, and _oh_ , she likes it- of course she does. 

“Did I ever travel back to fuck your younger self?”

“Not yet,” she says, nearly sighs with it. 

Definitely enemies. 

Five knows his faults, it’s easy with how few there are. First and foremost, he’s a possessive bastard. If H meant that much to him, he’d steal every one of her experiences, make her life revolve around him. 

“How long can you keep the world stopped?” Five asks. 

H doesn’t answer with words. She stands up, stripping off her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Matching black lace undergarments encase her creamy flesh perfectly, and H smirks at whatever face he’s making. He’s pretty sure he isn’t drooling, but couldn’t be blamed if he was- H is the ultimate walking fantasy. 

“You’ve always liked me in black,” she says, voice almost soft. She extends a hand, adding, “If you don’t enjoy it, you can turn back time.” 

Five takes her hand, electricity dancing down his spine. “Lead the way.” 

And maybe, maybe she does mean more to him. She certainly knows far more than an enemy should. (Scouting phase one: always learn as much as you can without endangering yourself.)


End file.
